


if you're feeling lonely (you should tell me)

by Legend_of_Link



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Four Swords
Genre: Anger Management, Autistic Four (Linked Universe), Autistic Legend (Linked Universe), Four (Linked Universe)-centric, Gen, Linked Universe (Legend of Zelda), Nightmares, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, The Inherent Bonding in Talking About Shared Trauma, i just want the colors to all have nice interactions with the other links GRRRR, it's implied but i am just letting u all know that it's intended, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:21:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26786635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Legend_of_Link/pseuds/Legend_of_Link
Summary: all things considered, the reveal of Four’s… Four-ness goes over rather well. they’re very cagey at first, but once they realize that no one hates them for existing (honestly, Legend is at a loss for why any part of Four would think that; how is this any different than the secrets anyone else has?), they start opening up more."you're doing it wrong, dipshit."okay, well, maybeopening upisn't the best choice of words for this one in particular.—“rupee for your thoughts?” he asks, voice just above a whisper so as not to wake anyone else.“nothing you could probably relate to."—aka: the colors interact with other links, aka: the content i wish to see in the world.
Relationships: Hyrule (Linked Universe) & Red Link, Legend (Linked Universe) & Blue Link, Twilight (Linked Universe) & Vio Link, Warriors (Linked Universe) & Green Link
Comments: 14
Kudos: 250





	1. Blue + Legend

**Author's Note:**

> if jojo won't provide the split-four content ill do it MYSELF >:(
> 
> anyway here's this, the title isn't super relevant it's just the lyrics to the song that's been stuck in my head ALL DAY (are you bored yet? by wallows !)
> 
> emjoy

all things considered, the reveal of Four’s… Four-ness goes over rather well. they’re very cagey at first, but once they realize that no one hates them for existing (honestly, Legend is at a loss for why any part of Four would think that; how is this any different than the secrets anyone else has?), they start opening up more.

“you’re doing it wrong, dipshit.”

“no i’m not.”

“yes you— here,” Blue leans over from his spot to Legend’s right, stealing his project and placing it in his own lap before the veteran can even react. Legend is, of course, very miffed about this, and reaches for his needle and embroidery hoop almost immediately.

“hey, give that back—”

Blue lifts them above his head and out of Legend’s reach, leveling a glare that practically  _ screams  _ ‘i dare you to try.’ “i’m doing you a fucking favor; look.” holding one elbow out to stop Legend from stealing his hat back, Blue undoes a few stitches of his work and redoes them, making sure that the other is watching the entire time.

Legend is still fighting for his stuff back, but as soon as he sees Blue start redoing the pattern, he quiets, watching as he finishes a repeat of the pattern much nicer than he had been doing. finally handing the project back over, Blue smirks. “i  _ told _ you you were doing it wrong.”

Legend glares, adjusting his hold on the needle. “just because yours is—”

“better?” cheeky bastard.

“— _ different _ doesn’t mean my method wasn’t working fine.” his words are clipped and hard, and even as he starts on another repeat of the looping pattern with Blue’s method, his motions are jerky and his hands shake with poorly concealed irritation.

Legend knows he has a problem with anger. he didn’t always; he can vaguely recall a younger boy who actually had patience, but sometime between his six adventures, he’d gotten so fed up with everything that even the smallest things managed to get on his nerves. 

he  _ knows  _ he has a problem with it and that it hasn’t necessarily gone unnoticed; the amount of times he’s blown up at others over small things or stormed off into the woods to blow off steam couldn’t be counted on his fingers alone. or his toes, probably. hell, just today he got into a shouting match with Wars that had to be de-escalated (he got a stern talking-to from Time that he pointedly did not pay attention to; he knows he’s a disappointment. he’s disappointed in himself. he doesn’t know what to do either).

anyway. the point. Blue is better at embroidery than him— somehow— and he’s absolutely  _ simmering _ at this fact, and also at how much  _ faster _ and nicer this new method is, and it’s aggravating. he’s aggravated. he’s positively enraged. he’s about to snap the needle in half with how tightly he’s holding it.

“dude, are you okay?” Blue asks. he’s gone back to writing in his (Four’s?) journal like their previous interaction hadn’t even happened. for some reason unknown to him, this is the final straw for Legend, and he puts the embroidery project down in his lap so quickly he feels the impact in his legs.

“do i fucking  _ look _ okay?” the veteran asks hotly, but before Blue can even react, he continues. “don’t answer that, if i hear you say anything to me for the rest of the night i’m going to—” he makes a fist with his hand, holds it up in the general direction of nothing, and ultimately lets it go when he has nothing to aim it at. “i don’t  _ know _ , but it’s not going to be pretty.”

Blue, for his part, seems very nonplussed by this, wearing a perfect expression of neutrality. when Legend stops talking and levels him with a glare, he nods once and purses his lips, looking back down to his journal and flipping through the pages. “okay. you do that.” Legend’s hands shake so bad in clenched fists he’s sure that, were they not relatively alone, someone else would have been able to notice them.

stopping on a page near the front of the book, the blue hero continues, not giving the other a chance to interject. “you wouldn’t happen to have an anger management problem, would you?” he asks. his voice is casual, but the look he levels with Legend’s scathing glare is intent and self-confident, with just the suggestion of understanding underneath. it makes Legend pause for a moment, dumbfounded by that underlayer of comprehension for the exact thing he’s feeling.

Blue nods when Legend’s posture loosens in surprise. “okay, so, i don’t do this for everyone, so don’t fucking tell anyone i did this for you, okay?” he mutters, leaning in closer, balancing the journal on one knee. “i have a reputation to uphold.” Legend snorts. Blue slaps his knee. “shut up, i totally do.

“anyway, i… know how that is.” the blue-clad hero refuses to make eye contact now, even as Legend looks at him in interest, his eyes darting around the fire and the treeline. “constantly being more angry than you probably have a right to. it fucking  _ sucks _ . i used to constantly—” he seems to rethink his sentence, shaking his head. “no, nevermind.

“so a while ago, we all— me and the other colors— made this list of shit i should do to manage my anger. i fucking hated doing any of it at first, but once i realized it actually helped, i basically memorized the entire thing.”

Legend exhales sharply through his nose, straightening his posture. “i don’t need your pity help, Blue.” he picks up the needle and embroidery hoop from his lap, though he already knows he has no intention of starting the pattern up again.

Blue barks out a laugh. “i’m not helping you out of  _ pity _ , dude. i have literally been in your shoes before and i’m telling you this shit so you don’t burn bridges like i nearly did. shut the fuck up and listen to me,” he adds on, when he sees Legend gear up to spit something else. he shoves an item into Legend’s hands. “take this.”

Legend looks down. in his hand is a tiny bottle of liquid with no label, and a cube with various modifications on its sides. he looks back up at Blue with a quirked eyebrow.

“that bottle is lavender, stick a bit on your wrists and neck and your blood pressure goes down fucking  _ instantly _ . i have no idea where Red gets this stuff, but it works wonders.” Blue doesn’t intrude on the veteran’s personal space, letting him uncap the bottle and give it a test sniff. it smells calming, which is not a word Legend thought he would ever use to describe a smell, but he applies it with embarrassingly little resistance afterward. “the other thing is a fidget cube. mess with it, and you totally forget about being angry. for me, at least.”

Legend looks at the cube for a moment. one face has a tiny lever that clicks back and forth; another has a button reminiscent of a pressure plate; yet another has a simple indent meant for sliding against your thumb. Legend knows immediately that if Blue tries to take this thing away he’s getting a face full of sword.

when he finally stops being distracted by the cube and looks back at his companion, Blue doesn’t make much of a fuss. in fact, this entire time, Blue’s been really nonreactive; he didn’t realize it until now, but Legend is pretty sure that it’s a mix of schooled reaction and effort to not create a looping reaction of angry shouting Courage-bearers. it’s a more complex thought process than Legend would have originally given Blue credit for; that, or maybe the other hero has been in a situation like this before and knows how to handle it.

rather than comment or poke fun on how entranced Legend became in the fidget cube, Blue just moves on. “if that doesn’t work, the other thing i do is leave. it sounds stupid, i know, but distancing yourself from the cause helps a _ ton _ most of the time. also, once i’m alone, i can fuck shit up and no one can tell me not to.” 

Legend barely holds back a snort at the addition, and the corners of his companion’s mouth quirk up for just a moment at the reaction. Blue takes the lavender back and puts it away, leaning back on his hands as he gathers his words. “do you remember two days ago when i got really mad at Wind and stormed off into the woods?”

Legend nods. “you were gone for a while.” his fingers still occupy themselves with the fidget cube, the soft clicking noises almost lost under the crackle of the fire.

Blue nods back, looking off into the treeline. “when i came back, i’d cleared my head enough to not yell at anyone. obviously, it didn’t fix the whole problem, but it helps. if you  _ really _ want to resolve your stupid angry feelings, just talk to Red, honestly.”

he says this with such casual conviction that Legend tilts his head, quirking a brow as Blue glances over to meet his gaze. “oh, don’t look at me like that,” he gripes, elbowing Legend in the side gently. “don’t knock it until you’ve tried it. not only is he a great listener, he can usually figure out exactly how to fix any problem that you created. it’s kind of terrifying, honestly.”

“i’ll… keep it in mind,” Legend says slowly, filing the information away for later with the knowledge that he probably won’t ever use it.

“oh, and it doesn’t matter if you don’t want his help,” Blue adds, as if reading his mind. “he’ll seek you out if he knows you can use his help and he isn’t preoccupied.” Legend shoots him a glare, anger flaring back for a moment, before he returns it with a tempered one of his own until Legend breaks the intense eye contact, mentally excusing it as needing to shift to a different face of the fidget cube.

Blue seems to take note of his continued fascination with it, gesturing to it as he continues. “do you want to keep that?”

“yes,” Legend replies immediately, bristling briefly at the prospect of having it taken. he settles down after a moment when Blue nods in acknowledgement, and he mentally scolds himself for already getting attached to an item he received not ten minutes ago. attachment has always spelled bad things for him, but that’s a thought to chase at a different time. preferably never.

instead, he takes a deep breath in through his nose, taking stock of himself. the anger that, before, was so raging it had caused his hands to shake had gone down to a low simmer. not gone, he doesn’t think that at the current stage of his life he will ever be void of anger, but low enough that it doesn’t demand all of his attention. maybe Blue really  _ was _ onto something here.

the two sit in silence for a while after that, staring into the fire. Legend sets the fidget cube next to him and picks up his embroidery project again, shifting his position as he gets comfortable. Blue does the same with his journal. even after restarting, it takes a few deep breaths and mental encouragement to get himself to speak.

“thank you,” he bites out, pointedly looking at the wave pattern making its way around the base of his hat and not at his fellow hero. “for all the advice, or whatever.”

Blue huffs out a breath in the way that suggests he’s smiling. “no problem. i got most of the anger in the Four Split, so this is pretty par for the course for me, i guess.” Legend hums in acknowledgement.

their moment of companionable silence is broken by a giggling Wind and Hyrule sprinting in from the treeline and across camp, followed shortly after by Green, another of Four’s fragments.

“WIND!! HYRULE!!"

when Legend looks up, Green is chasing after the duo, his hair flying around his face and a look of seething determination on his face. “give me back my headband, you fuckers!!” he yells as he passes, nearly tripping on someone’s bedroll but keeping hot on Wind and Hyrule’s tail as they vanish once more into the trees.

Legend sends Blue a deadpan expression, clearly saying, ‘seems like you aren’t the angry one at the moment.’ 

Blue rolls his eyes, laughing. “i said  _ most _ of the anger, not  _ all _ of it.”


	2. Green + Warriors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i'm gonna preface this with the note that i'm not... terribly proud of this chapter? i don't think it flows well and it really isn't the best thing i've ever written. that being said, it's been sitting around for too long to go unpublished any longer, so without further stalling, i give you Shared Trauma Boys.

Warriors returns to camp from a brief patrol of the area with a sigh, sitting a small distance from his watch partner with the weight of heavy memories. being alone in the woods with your thoughts has never bode well for him, a fact that rings true in half-distant eyes and restless hands.

Green picks up on his mood easily, if the unsubtle scooch closer and inquiring look is anything to go by. “rupee for your thoughts?” he asks, voice just above a whisper so as not to wake anyone else.

Wars breathes out a weak chuckle, shoulders lifting themselves in an equally weak shrug. “nothing you could probably relate to,” he admits. he rests his elbows on his knees and leans forward, staring just past the campfire and into the treeline in an effort to pretend like he’s still thinking about watch.

“try me,” he hears Green say a second later. when he chances a glance, Green is looking at him with an expression halfway between challenging and intrigued. “i mean, at the least, it can’t be good to just sit on your thoughts.”

the captain can’t find a good counterpoint to this. “yeah, fair.” a deep inhale, a heavy exhale; he avoids eye contact. “i’m sure you know that i served as a captain during my adventure as hero,” he starts, and he feels more than sees his watch partner nod in acknowledgement. “it… wasn’t the easiest job.” said with a dry laugh, the knowledge that he’s severely understating it.

“sounds rough, buddy,” Green says, so quickly it almost seems like an automatic response. apparently it was, because shortly after, he shakes his head as if to dispel a thought and continues, “no, wait, sorry. i mean— it sure doesn’t sound like it. i can relate, i think. definitely not on the same scale!” he rushes to add, “i’ve only been in charge of a few hundred soldiers once, and very recently.

“but, i think i can guess what’s eating at you?” Green ends with a question, leaning around the wall Wars has made with his hunched shoulders until they can make eye contact, the smaller hero nearly tilted ninety degrees sideways at the waist. Wars shrugs, gesturing for the other to continue. “it’s remembering all of the stress of having everyone else under your care, right?”

Wars blinks. “yeah. hit the nail on the head.”

Green smiles knowingly and nods. “i know exactly how you feel. i’m responsible for the wellbeing of my brothers— it’s not as stressful now, since we have all of you to follow, but back when it was just the four of us on our adventures…” he scrunches his eyes shut, shaking his head to clear the memory. “i was constantly terrified of one of them getting injured or killed and it being my fault, or being blamed for it.”

“multiply that feeling by two hundred,” Wars says. Green hums as he sighs, and the captain can’t imagine that what he’s envisioning in his mind is pretty. when he tries to sit up straight again, the smaller hero nearly falls off of the log they’re using as a couch, barely stifling the panicked noise. Wars doesn’t bother to hide his snort.

they sit there in silence for a sizeable amount of time after that, alternating between staring at the fire, stealing glances at each other, and watching their sleeping companions. Wild turns over at some point, as does Hyrule. a breeze ruffles the trees, making both of them tense briefly, but the breeze passes, and they settle back into comfortable quiet.

it’s a while before Wars speaks again. “do you mind if i tell you about something?”

Green picks up the context of his question easily, shifting his position so he’s sitting cross-legged and facing the other; undivided attention. “sure.”

even after being given permission, it takes a few breaths before the captain begins to speak. “one of my first missions as an officially recognized captain was at a place called the temple of souls. our first goal of the battle was to sever the connection between interlocked enemy keeps, ones that kept producing redeads.”

“eugh, redeads?” Green makes a face halfway between disgust and horror. “i’m so sorry.”

Wars shrugs at this. “once you learn their patterns, they’re easy enough to take down— for me, anyway. i went to one side and another squadron went to the other; the other two stayed by the Princess for support, because that’s where the enemy was headed. it was a really solid plan; both sides had strong soldiers, and morale was high.”

he pauses for a long time.

“... what happened?” Green asks, tentative, reaching out a single hand just slightly. Wars doesn’t take it, but he does give him a wan smile.

“we were expecting reinforcements, but … the  _ amount _ that they came in…. the men on the other side were overpowered. they took down the west side commander early on, and by the time word got to my squadron, they had…” he trails off, either unwilling or unable to finish the sentence.

Green scoots closer, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder and drawing his eyes to the smaller hero. his expression is complex, smiling with his eyebrows turned inward. Wars is expecting him to speak, but what he isn’t expecting is the words that he says and the conviction with which he says them.

“you know it’s not your fault, right?”

Wars blinks. this is news to him, and also false, most likely. he turns away, back to the fire, but not harshly enough to jostle the hand on his shoulder. “right,” he says, huffing out a breath of sardonic laughter.

this doesn’t seem to be the reaction Green was expecting. “no, like—” a shake of the shoulder brings Wars’ attention back to his watch companion. “it  _ isn’t. _ you are not at fault for the lives lost under your command, captain. responsible, maybe, but not at fault.”

_ “this is your fault!” _

_ “some captain you are, letting him die like that…” _

_ “how could you let so many of my fellows die?” _

he shakes his head, bangs falling into his face and obscuring it in shadow. “that’s never what i was told.”

“i’m going to ask you a question,” Green announces, trailing his hand down the captain’s arm and down to his hand, gripping it tightly. “did you know that there would be that many reinforcements?”

Wars sighs. “well,  _ no _ , but—”

“ _ but _ , did you prepare for that outcome? did you know that it was going to happen?”

“...no.”

“and did you do everything you could to save the remaining men?”

_ he remembers running through the keeps, not looking at the floor, never at the floor. he saved a young soldier (the man couldn’t have been over nineteen, why did they even enlist people that age) from the deadly strike of a bokoblin, saved three more from the clutches of a redead. defeated every enemy captain he came across. _

_ he did everything he possibly could, gave his last two potions to a mortally wounded group making attempts at retreat. absolutely decimated every redead and bokoblin that appeared from the keeps until he was sure both sides of the battlefield were safe from massacre. _

“i—” his voice falters. “i tried. i did my best.” he leaves the ‘it wasn’t good enough’ unsaid.

“then it isn’t your fault,” Green states firmly. when Wars continues to silently refute his claim, he removes his hand to throw both arms into the sky, as if asking the stars for patience. if he wasn’t so down, Wars would laugh at the gesture. 

after his plea to the heavens, the smaller hero shifts, the first sign of discomfort he’s shown this entire time. “when we were on our second adventure,” he starts, falters, and then starts again, this time with more conviction. Wars turns to face him, but for the first time, Green is avoiding eye contact rather than making it, staring into the fire. “when we were on our second adventure together, we came across a group of hinoxes on our way to the tower of winds. and we couldn’t just leave them there, because there was a village close by, so i made a plan.

“we’d used someone as a distraction before, while the others jumped in and attacked, so i was sure that that strategy would work again. Red volunteered to do it, and the battle was going practically perfect, until there were just two left.” Wars could vaguely see where this was going. he didn’t like it.

“they managed to corner Red, and i didn’t notice until it was too late to make it in time. Blue and i managed to defeat them pretty fast, but the hinoxes mortally wounded Red before we could stop them.” his voice wavers, but Green manages to speak without cutting himself off. “i’m the one who tended to his wounds and carried him to the village for treatment, which is all i could really do at that point. he stopped breathing once. it was awful, and it happened under my command. he made it okay in the end— obviously.”

“but how do you know that that isn’t your fault?” Wars asks, and his quiet tone opposes the feelings loaded into the question. “how do you not blame yourself for the death that happens under your command?”

“practice,” Green recites with a small smile. “practice, and logical thinking. Vio had to help me with that part. think about it this way: if there was no way to prevent it, and you stopped it from getting any worse, then that’s statistically the best that situation could get. you didn’t let it get  _ worse _ under your command, and that’s the part you need to focus on. you need to remember that you kept it from getting worse.”

Wars hums. Green still seems to be collecting his words, so he doesn’t interrupt.

“sometimes you can prevent things like this from happening,” he says. “sometimes you can’t. and when you can’t, you can minimize the casualties. it’s kind of bleak, but… sometimes it’s all you’ve got to work with.”

he doesn’t get a reply, but when Green looks back, the captain is staring into middle distance, contemplating his words. he doesn’t say anything; better to give him space to think. he may not be as in tune with others as his brothers can be, but he generally knows what to do.

_ after the battle is over, the captain spoke with every soldier from the western squadron that he could find. most of them were resentful, hurt, terrified, or a mix of the three. these are the ones he remembers. _

_ but if he thinks hard enough, he can recall a soldier at the back of the medical tent, nursing a broken rib and a head wound. he can recall being profusely thanked for saving his life, can recall him as the young soldier he saved from a bokoblin leader. can remember being so struck by the moment that he almost didn’t respond, and when he did, all he could manage was, “i’m sorry i couldn’t do more.” _

and, he thinks in the present, maybe he doesn’t have to be sorry. because he did everything he could. he saved everyone he could. he still feels guilty about it, every life lost under his command hanging around his shoulders like dead weight, but maybe it isn’t entirely his fault.

Green is really on to something with this “logical thinking” thing.

“thank you,” Wars says, shoulders finally losing some tension. “that was… oddly helpful.”

“of course,” Green smiles, “i know how you feel. figured i should try and help, glad it paid off.” 

after another moment of companionable silence, the smaller hero looks up to the moon, before promptly cursing. Wars looks up too, and though it takes him a moment, he performs a similar reaction upon realizing that it’s past their time to switch for watch. 

the two share a look, and then Green speaks: “i’ll wake up Red if you wake up Time?”

“deal.”

and as the captain stands, the weight on his shoulders feels just a bit lighter.


End file.
